The Naked Angelina Jolie Self-Portrait Challenge

Of course, I know you are all working on your entries for the Naked Angelina Jolie Self-Portrait Challenge over at Amy's. I entered just before I left for the Capitalist's house last week, and now Michael is part of the contest. His entry is called "I pushed the button and then I jumped".

Send your entries to Amy: ahacala at gmail dot com.

The children are the future

You can really tell that an idea is catching on when the younger folks decide they want to participate. Or, in this case, when they INSIST on being allowed to participate. Entry #3 in the Being David Hasselhoff Contest is from Michael.

I'm not really sure what to say about this. Instead, I will share a moment from behind the scenes:

Steve: Do you have a cross necklace?
Michael: A what?
Steve: A T?
Michael: No, I don't have a T. But I think I saw a T in one of those old books. (Rummages through prayer books on the shelf.)

Send your entries to me: dryas at theedge dot ca. Or post them to your own blog and send me the link. Your participation is key. I know you want to do it.

First prize is the ability to take over my blog for the ENTIRE DAY. Second prize is a stormtrooper helmet. Yes. That's how classy this contest is.

Previously on the Being David Hasselhoff Contest:
Zach Supports David Hasselhoff For Vice President
Steve Is David Hasselhoff
Being David Hasselhoff

More from Michael

My mom has a movie that is a concert!

The story of a movie is called the plot. And this plot is about a girl who likes to be fancy, a boy who likes to play the guitar, and an old guy who plays the drums and looks like my poppy. And there is another guy who plays the drums but is not the best drummer in the world.

My grampy used to be in a band and play the guitar like the boy in the movie. But this boy can play his guitar just by hitting it! And I thought he was gonna smash his guitar but he didn't.

I am going to talk to my music teacher so I can learn how to play an instrument and be in a band like the one in the movie. I think that would be good. My favourite guy is the drummer. I like to watch him play the drums. And I think he is the best drummer in the world even though the main movie is about the girl.

My mom says you have to practise for an hour every day to be in a band. That is a lot. But I think I would like it.

I think the girl is young. Not like the old guy who plays the drums. And I think the guy who plays guitar is old, too. The girl is young and she plays the tambourine. She likes to dress up in capes and dance around and it looks like she has wings.

Love, Michael

A message from Michael

Dear everyone,

I hope John McCain doesn't see this.

You should vote for Barack Obama. I watched the debate with my mom and he is better. And I just like him. Boo on John McCain. I think he might even be older than my grampy.

I called my grampy to tell him to vote for Barack Obama, but he was asleep, so I told my grammy to tell my grampy to vote for him. I really think he should be the president. I wish kids got to vote, because if we did, I would vote for Barack Obama. And did you know that he has two children? They are so lucky.

I told my grampy that I would go and visit him on Christmas if he votes for Barack Obama. That is even though I wanted to visit Daniel on Christmas.

I need to call more people and tell them to vote for him. Hang in there, Obama.

Finally, a story that ends well

The boys discovered this dog on Daniel's porch yesterday afternoon. Predictably, they were thrilled, and spent the entire afternoon playing with him.

He followed Michael home. When I got back from work, it was dark and the dog was curled up in front of our door.

Michael was in tears and wanted to adopt him. He did not have a collar, but he seemed like a very nice dog. Still, I was sure that he lived in the neighbourhood. It would be wrong to take him. Besides, Michael is allergic to dogs. Besides, we don't have room for a dog. Besides, I don't want a dog.

A few hours later, he was still on our porch. I started to feel really guilty, but was still hopeful that he would make his way home. We tied a note around his body with pantyhose: "My name is Michael. I love your dog. Please call and let me know he is safe." Then we sent a photo and a note to the SPCA's Lost and Found e-mail list.

The dog greeted us this morning. He was hungry. I felt incredibly guilty as he licked his lips pointedly.

I did not want to feed him. I wanted him to find his owner. As I walked away from the house, I told the dog to go home.

About half a dozen people on the SPCA list recognised the dog. His frantic owner called in tears at 9:30. His name is Hunter. They are new to Name of Town Withheld and he is not used to being in town. He ran away two days ago and she hadn't seen him since.

I told her I thought he was still on my porch and she could come by and pick him up.

Of course, he wasn't here. He had done what I'd told him to do, except that he hadn't gone home, he'd wandered off in a random direction. She started to search the neighbourhood. I felt guiltiest of all for not tying him up or putting him inside. Or calling the pound or bylaw. Or waiting at home to see if anyone would respond to my message.

She came by my office at noon with a photo. She was distraught and hugged me several times. I, being an emotional person, cried.

When Steve got home from work, there was a message on our answering machine from someone who'd seen our note in the pantyhose. This person lives across town and hadn't hung onto the dog, but had seen him in the area.

I called the owner and told her where to look. She called back in tears and said that she had the dog on her lap.

It's good that SOME things can end well.

Tell me lies: tell me sweet little lies

Michael does not like to be told things that are not true.

My mom says that my grandmother is the same way: apparently she even hates fiction. Michael is not nearly that extreme; in fact, he loves fiction stories and movies. But he does NOT want to discover that he was wrong about something he previously believed because he was told it was true.

He often asks if TV shows are "real", meaning whether the people onscreen are actors. This is usually easy to explain but no more reassuring: the international news can be hideous at times. However, he seems to find some comfort in knowing what's true.

He lost his two front teeth the other day.

He is basically on to me about the tooth fairy: in fact, he thinks it's creepy that I steal his teeth. What do I DO with them? Why would I want them?

I have not confessed, but he knows the truth.

He did not mention the tooth fairy to me, but made it clear that he still expected remuneration for the teeth. By bedtime, he was willing to play along for the sake of capitalism. He left them on the table next to my bed, with a note under the pillow: Dear Tooth Fairy, my tooth is on the tabel table. <------

He has four shiny new twonies in his "muny bank".

My Grampy

Transcriber's Note: I discovered this in my drafts folder. Clearly, it is from just before our last trip south. I didn't want to post it then because I didn't want to let my parents know that we were going to show up at the annual family reunion.

My grampy was tricking me. He said that only old people could wiggle their fingers like him, but I figured it out and I am gonna show it to him when I see him. And he snaps his fingers really fast. I am good at snapping my fingers and I am gonna be just as good as him.

I am good at other things, too. Like I am really flexible, and I don't think he is as flexible as me. And I am a good skier. I once skied for three miles in minus 45 and I wasn't even cold. And nobody else was with me because they all thought it was too cold. I bet I am better at skiing than my grampy.

My dad says that Grampy looks like Indiana Jones, but I don't think so. My grampy has a big big head, and Indiana Jones has a skinny head like my dad's. So I don't think they look the same.

From Michael

Tooth Fairy

Parenting is the hardest thing I have ever done.

Michael has had a falling-out with a friend who said something hurtful. The friend later apologised and explained what he meant, but things have not been the same. There has been an unmistakable chill in the air for the past few days.

Michael has had disagreements and out-and-out fights with other kids before, but this one seemed to completely shatter him. He came home choking tears back, and stayed in his room by himself for hours. When the friend apologised, Michael was afraid that he was lying.

It has affected me, too: I am now constantly second-guessing his relationships with other kids. He suddenly seems more tentative and on the sidelines. I am unsure how to deal with it. Of course, it's possible that I am imagining all of this. Today was the end-of-school pizza party, and when we arrived at the gym, Michael was playing with a bunch of boys. We stayed near the door and watched quietly. I kept asking Steve if he was playing normally. He kept saying that he was; I remained unconvinced.

Yes, I am a crazy mommy.

I am posting this only because it is weighing heavily on my mind. The friend is like a brother to Michael and a nephew to me, and I am sure this will all blow over in a few days. In the meantime, it is hard to watch.

Sometimes I think I am not strong enough to be a mother.

It's almost Mother's Day, right?

Michael used to be very good at cleaning his room. This video clip from 2002 proves it. Each day he would dutifully put all of his Legos into the Lego box and all of his blocks into the block box. His clothes would be put away, and his books would be returned to his shelf. I liked that.

His new standard of cleanliness for his room is "seeing the floor". I do not think this is a good goal. When I ask him to clean his room, he will do what he calls "clearing a path". This is exactly what you think it is. Toys on the left side of the room are pushed to the left wall. Toys on the right side of the room are pushed to the right wall. Clothes, books, cash, and old notes from his teacher are pushed into one of the two piles. Actually, it is probably more accurate to refer to them as mountain ranges: it's not as if there are only two piles of mess. They will occasionally have minor avalanches that completely upend the natural order. I don't know how he finds anything. I definitely don't know how he knows which items of clothing are clean, because it seems to me that they are all strewn across the floor with no accurate way to determine the difference.

I am really starting to get the feeling that I am nothing more than a maid. No, wait: normally, you pay the maid. On the other hand, I am expected to work every day so that new purchases can be placed in the mountain range.

Every few months I will go through his room and fill two garbage bags with old toys. I do this secretly while he is at Daniel's, and he never misses the things I've thrown away. I am pretty sure he could live quite happily with only his Pokemon cards and his Transformers DVD. I also suspect that I could do a similar purge on Steve's stuff while he is distracted by the short-skirted girls on Deal Or No Deal, but I haven't actually put that plan into action.

Yet.

From the Archives: Michael, age 5, watches a scary Star Trek movie

Everybody cut, everybody cut...

Dear everyone,

I saw a play with my mom and dad. And there was a guy who looked like my grampy. And he was a minister like my grampy! But he didn't like dancing. He only liked going to church and bossing people around. But in the end he changed his mind.

From Michael

Michael: Paleontology Expert

Dear everyone,

Dinosaurs lived a LONG LONG time ago. They died and all their skin went away and then they were dead for so long that it was only their bones left and sometimes they would turn into fossils. Scientists don't know why they died. But lots of them think a meteor crashed into the earth and put a lot of dust in the air and all the plants and trees died so the dinosaurs couldn't live. And they all died and some of them went into fossils. But here's the funny thing: Some animals didn't die! Some scientists think they hid until it was safe to come out again.

From Michael

Break the silence. Damn the dark. Damn the light.

Reader-submitted question: Your mother told your son where babies come from? Ahahahahaha OMG...Like *OH* *EM* *GEE*!!!!!!!!!! So did it turn out to be a good thing or a bad thing? LOL.

P.S. That David Hasselhoff gallery thingy is obscene. I had a Hasselhoff mustache-mare thanks to you!!

Don't worry. Dreaming about David Hasselhoff is very normal. All men aspire to his hairy manliness, and he is a star of stage and screen. There would only be cause for concern if you WEREN'T dreaming about him.

My son is in denial, I think. He hasn't mentioned it, nor has he suggested to anyone else that I am up to anything that would make a baby. Perhaps it was good that my mom started to explain it.

Margarita Night

Why, LOOK! It's an icy drink! How ever did THAT get HERE? Well, if I don't drink it, it's just going to melt. Really, I'm performing a public service.
And look! She's got one, too! I wonder if that one tastes the same way mine does.
Hey, I want the camera back!
If I clasp my hands this way, I'll look really angelic and nobody will notice that I've almost finished four margaritas. It's like camouflage.
Aw, shucks.
I don't like any of the pictures people take of me. I probably won't like this one, either.
I've got a better idea. Michael's the best camouflage there is! Everyone look at how cute he is! Nobody look at the drinks in front of me!
I stole the green thing off Grampy's glass! I wonder why nobody's eating them. They look yummy, like oranges. I can't wait to bite into it. That'll really show them that I am the sneakiest person at the table.
AAHHHH!!!

Happy Easter

For the Failed Mommies Club

Beaches

Wingardium Leviosa

Dear everyone,

OK, so my dad bought me a book and it has a magic wand in it. But it doesn't work! I think I am holding it wrong or saying the words wrong. Or maybe I need to stand on a little stool when I use it. And there are no little stools here.

My mom says I should read the book and learn more about the wand. But it would be a lot easier if someone would just tell me how to use it. That would be way faster. So I hope someone has a magic wand, because that is a really fat book. Or maybe I should go to Google and go to magicwand.com. I do not know what would be there but maybe it would tell me how to use it. I'm going to go to it right now, so bye.

From Michael

Tattoos and bad jokes